Proof positive that not everything Dick Wolf touches turns to gold, D.C. joins Hyperion Bay on the “debit” side of Mark-Paul Gosselaar’s career ledger. keckler sat through all four episodes, but the WB had better things to stick in that time slot.

We can watch Ted Danson sniff coke and bang prostitutes in the back of cars all day long, but never mind our Cheers fanfic. The promise â€“ not to mention the shock value — of the first season of this Glenn Close drama evaporated in season two (you know, the one we decided to cover), with an unfocused storyline, twists for the sake of twists and an utter lack of characters we could love, hate, love to hate, hate to love or, ultimately, watch. We rest our case.

First, there was the first season with Lydecker and Manticore. Then, there was the second season with the Logan virus and the MmmmAlec. And now there will be no more seasons, due to cancellation by FOX.

TWoP’s flagship show couldn’t go on forever (thank God), and after six seasons of wretchedly overwrought dialogue, foul hairstyles, offensively boring and boringly offensive plots, a jackass “hero,” and a love triangle from hell that drove three recappers and countless viewers screaming into the arms of Maalox, Dawson’s Creek finally joined the Flash in that Big Ice Cream Shop In The Sky. We will mourn the man, the myth, the forehead. Except not.

Ah, Dead Last. What looked like a live action Scooby-Doo (rock bands travels around with supernatural touches and lots of ghosts) became a bastardized A-Team, even an ersatz Mod Squad at times. Dated, weak, not meaningful, and with a largely unattractive cast (Jane is never lit well, and what’s with Vaughn’s hair “styles”?), the show only had moments. If you like your humor blacker than black, and Jack Black, you’ll love Scotty the drummer. Everyone did. For about six weeks.

Is it a cop show or a journalism show? Whichever it was, Deadline became the first Fall 2000 drama to meet its maker. Even fine thespians Lili Taylor, Tom Conti, Hope Davis, and Bebe Neuwirth couldn’t perform the alchemy required to turn this steaming dung-pile into gold. And the less said about Oliver Platt, the better.

No law at all in Deadwood. And no censor at all at HBO, obviously, since Deadwood was about the dirtiest, nastiest, filthiest program ever to legally grace the airwaves. And oh, how we loved it. Shootin’, stabbin’, sexin’, clenchin’…this show had it all. Unfortunately, by the cruel twist of fate’s knife in our guts, it was cancelled by the the Hooplehead Box Office, may they rue the fuckin’ day.

If/when we ever think back about NBC’s failed version of Revenge, it won’t be the main characters who were barely people or the idiotic formula of each episode that we remember. It’ll be the great acting, the incredible and hilarious specificity of the characters, the one time when Joanna was actually cool and Edward’s frog. Mostly the frog.